Marketing Skills
by Silver Sparklze
Summary: (Crossover BTVSHP) Ginny Weasley wants to stand on her own two feet. Willow Rosenburg needs some illegal potions ingredients. Will Ginny give them to her for the sake of money?


Title: Marketing Skills

Summary: Ginny Weasley wants to stand on her own two feet. Willow Rosenburg needs some illegal potions ingredients. Will Ginny give them to her for the sake of money?

Author's Notes: I drank too much coffee. Not my fault.

Disclaimer: I own Angus Martins, Mina, the Cleveland College for Witchcraft, Magical Market, and Clementines. Everything else is owned by JK Rowling, Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemey, and Warner Bros...and probably other people too.

Warnings: Hints of prostitution.

Timeline: Three years after 'Chosen' Willow's 26, and Ginny's 25.

Pairing: Ginny Weasley/Willow Rosenburg.

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Ginny Weasley was _this_ close to killing her boss with a rusty fork.

"And remember to refill the potions exhibit, you forgot yesterday and poor Mina had to do it." Angus Martins, the manager of 'Magical Market' directed.

"It was Mina's job to refill the potions exhibit." Ginny replied tightly.

"Don't make excuses, Weasley. I took you on out of the goodness of my heart when you had no references or qualifications to speak of..."

Ginny tuned out. 'You took me on, you slimy pig, because my father's the English Minister of Magic.' She thought angrily. 'And because I'm a girl and the only dress-robes I owned for the interview were slightly too small.' She didn't say anything, however. She'd promised herself that she wouldn't live on her parents' charity, and she planned to hold to her promise.

Angus was right on one aspect, though. She _didn't_ have any qualifications. She was taking night-courses at the Cleveland College for Witchcraft, but she knew she was a long way to getting her degree, so she had to suck it up and deal with this bastard a bit longer.

"...Is that clear, Miss Weasley?"

Ginny resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Yes, Mr. Martins. I'll go do the potions stand now."

"Good." Pleased that the thorn-in-his-side was sufficiantly cowed, Martins retreated to his office at the back of the store.

Sighing, Ginny went to work. She knew exactly why Martins picked on her all the time. It was because she'd refused to have sex with him when he'd come on to her. The other girls who worked here were little more than prostitutes, and they got the light work and the easy hours. She got the harder stuff. Thing was, she couldn't quite _prove_ that, or she would have done so already.

"Um, 'scuse me, can you help me?" A soft voice asked.

Ginny turned around and blinked. Whoa, this lady had hair even brighter than hers! "Sure," she said, smiling politely. "What do you need?" She couldn't see a wand and so she figured this was another one of those muggles who thought this was a New Age store. Martins tolerated them because they were a) good for business, and b) usually pretty girls he could drool over.

The woman, who looked to be about her age,pulled on a lock of fiery hair and took out a list. "Well I kinda sorta need an ounce of powdered Chimera horn, some Fyarl mucus, five thousand Nargle eggs one hair from the head of a hag, preferably black, and three pints of Bicorn milk." She frowned. "Do you have all that? Coz I've looked 'most _everywhere_, and if you don't have that here I'm gonna have to check the 'net, and I _hate_ ordering magical stuff over the 'net, it's not the same quality, and I really, really need this stuff now-"

"Ok!" Ginny interrupted, holding up her hands. Evidently she was wrong. No New Age wannabe-witch would want that kind of stuff. "We have it. But much of that stuff can only be given to people with the right identification, since it's kind of evil."

The woman's face fell. "Dammit!" She cursed. "I've never been here before, so of course I don't have the identification. This was never a problem in Sunnydale, I could get most of the stuff just from walking down the street, and Anya gave me the rest-"

"Stop, just stop." Ginny said. "Look, I can't give you the Fyarl mucus or the Chimera horn, but I can give you everything else. I'm sorry, but I just can't bend the rules."

The woman nodded. "I know. How do I go about getting proper identification?"

"Well..." Ginny bit her lip. "It usually takes three to four months, but I have some contacts in England who could get them to you in less...would you like to meet me for dinner and we can discuss it?"

"Are you sure? Because that would be soooo cool, and I'd totally appreciate it and I'll be in your debt forever!"

Ginny giggled. "I'm sure. I'll meet you at that little cafe on the corner in two hours?"

The woman nodded eagerly. "Clementines? Sure, I'll be there. Thanks. What's your name, anyway?"

"Oh, Ginny. Ginny Weasley."

"Nice to meet you, Ginny. I'm Willow Rosenburg."

"Nice name." Ginny rung up Willow's sale. "That'll be $30." She said. Because of the muggles who shopped here, 'Magical Market' used muggle currency and changed it later.

"Here." Willow handed her a $100 bill. "Keep the change. My way of saying thanks. See ya."

Ginny smiled, putting the $70 into her pocket. "See you, Willow."

End Ficlet


End file.
